


Purple Stained Leaves

by Apricots_from_Nara



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Abusive Parents, Cell Survives AU, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Overprotective Father, Pregnancy, Romance, Slow Build, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, as slow as a one shot can be, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25135456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apricots_from_Nara/pseuds/Apricots_from_Nara
Summary: Millie is a simple farm girl who's lived a sheltered life. So sheltered she had no idea the horrors Perfect Cell inflicted on the world ever took place. One day, on October tenth, age 767, while hunting for colorful autum leaves, she finds a very unusual man, crippled, charming, and endlessly mysterious.
Relationships: Cell (Dragon Ball)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Purple Stained Leaves

It was a warm autumn afternoon as Millie roamed the nearby forest close to her farmhouse home, on the hunt for the many colorful leaves that littered the ground. She loved this time of year, as well as spring, with all its blooming flowers.

The young woman brushed her wavy ginger hair from her face as her eyes darted about, looking for the next leaf to add to her collection. There was no real purpose to collecting them except that she enjoyed it, and it helped pass time when there was nothing else to do.

So far she had several leaves that were the color of sunflowers, but she still needed to find others. Complete leaves in every shade of yellow, orange and red. She smiled as she spotted a leaf that was a perfect cherry red, and it was quickly added to her growing collection.

Millie’s mission to find more red leaves came to an abrupt halt, and her brow furrowed in confusion at what had captured her attention. 

Among all the warm shades of autumn there was a lone purple leaf. Millie knelt down, touching the leaf curiously as she wondered what type of tree this must have fallen from. The leaf was wet, and when she drew her hand back she saw that the purple color of the leaf was smeared on her fingers.

Millie looked up as a man cleared his throat, and she jumped away with a start at what she saw.

It was… something. A man? A bug? Both? She would have thought he was imaginary had he not blinked and then tilted his head at her. 

He was leaning on the base of a tree, and was horribly injured. He was missing an entire arm and some of the green armor that covered him just below the armpit, showing off greyish fibrous flesh, and both of his legs were mangled, one cut off just above the knee, and the other below. His armor was also badly cracked on his head, one of the long crests snapped off. There was no blood, but instead a green tinged fluid that seemed to be leaking from the flesh, though under his limbs on the ground was a pool of the same purple liquid that was on the leaf. 

She realized that was his blood, and proceeded to wipe her fingers off on her dress, grimacing.

“You don’t seem to be as afraid as I would expect.” He spoke finally. His tone was polite and voice deep, though it had an edge to it that hinted he was mildly discomforted. 

“Should I be afraid?” Millie asked cautiously, and he frowned.

“Do you not know who I am?”

Millie shook her head, and he grinned. “Oh, well…. That certainly benefits me greatly. Do you think you can help me?” 

“I could… But, are ya… Are ya okay?” He was fully coherent, so she felt stupid afterwards for asking, even more so when he chuckled, eyes narrowing as he smirked at her.

“Your concern is humorous, but not necessary. I am alive, which is more than I thought I would be.” He lifted the arm he still had, looking at his hand. His nails were black, and the skin on it, like his face and neck, was white. He continued to smirk as he clenched his hand into a fist. “However, I am at a bit of a disadvantage. So assistance until I recover would be appreciated.”

He talked funny. Overly sophisticated. He must have had an education of some sort. “I can get ya the uh… The wheelbarrow and put you in the hay loft.”

“Not your house?”

Millie shook her head, her hair swaying with the movement. “Papa doesnt let strangers onto the farm. Specially not ones as funny lookin’ as you, sir.”

He frowned at her, his head tilting in curiosity. “Do you watch the news? Do you have a television?”

“We don’t got any cable or satellite, no. Papa gets the paper from town, and the TV is just for movies.” Millie wondered if he was famous or something, and that was why he was confused. But he just was not familiar in any sense.

“Ah, that certainly explains everything to me. Very well, the loft will do fine.”

“I gotta get it. I’ll be back.” 

She made note of his location as she left the woods and headed towards the farm. It was large, but fairly empty. It was just her, her father, and the farmhand. The animals consisted of chickens, a few goats, and one old cow that was more like the family pet then a farm animal.

She grabbed the wheelbarrow from behind the shed and after looking around carefully, trotted back to the edge of the trees, maneuvering through bushes until she reached him again. He motioned her to wheel it up alongside him, and he set his hand on the side.

“Do ya need help?” Millie asked, and he smirked at her, heaving himself up fairly easily. With a loud clunk he settled into the wheelbarrow, and she noticed he looked like he had wings, which were also mangled and cracked off.

It took a bit of effort to push him forward. He weighed a lot apparently, so much so the wheel sank into the soft soil. But eventually she got him rolling, and she headed back onto the farm, making a dash to the barn. “Let me get the pulley ready for ya so I can lift you up there.”

She left him briefly to grab a few things, and when she returned, he was gone. She stared at the fluid he left behind a moment before he called to her from the loft. “I am already up here, my dear.”

She looked up and went to the ladder, climbing up and sure enough, he was settled on some of the hay, hand lazily resting on his thigh as he shifted to make himself comfortable. 

“How did-”

“I have my ways.” He looked out of a hole in the barn for a long moment. “Tell me, what is exactly the date? I know it is autumn, but I am unclear of the month, or even the year.”

“Its… Um, October tenth, age 767.”

“Ah… So it's been six months.” He moved to set his hand over where his right arm should have been, touching the grey flesh with a mild wince. “Should not be much longer…”

“What should not be much longer?”

“The rest of my healing. It’s been a slow process, but if this much of me is back now...”

Healing? Was he at one point worse off than this? Millie looked at him incredulously, and wondered if he had hit his head, he had the head injury for it. She would never claim to be smart, but she was keen enough to know that anyone with injuries like this should have been delirious with pain, if not flat out dead.

“You were worse than this?” she asked, wishing him to explain a little better.

“Oh much much worse. You would not be able to fathom how much so.” He chuckled, flicking the slime off his fingers, “But it seems I've hit a bit of a wall. I’ve been like this a week and have made no further progress. I fear my core might be damaged. Which would explain the rather slow regeneration...”

“What does regeneration mean?” Millie asked.

“Judging by your accent I am not surprised you would not know.” the man scoffed, “Essentially, it means to heal and regrow what is missing.”

“Like how a lizard grows its tail back?”

“Yes, very much like that. However it's all of me, not just a single part.” He waved her off, “I wish to be alone. However, be sure not to tell anyone about me. If the person who did this to me knew I was still alive, he would come and find me, and destroy me.”

That didn’t sound very nice. He had a bit of a big head like city folk did, but he was very polite and seemed to be nice. She nodded and moved her fingers over her mouth to show her lips were sealed, and he grinned at her.

“Good girl.”

She moved to leave, though she paused after a few steps down the ladder. “What is your name?”

“Cell. And yours?”

“Millie, Mr. Cell.” He seemed amused by her calling him Mr. Cell.

“Just ‘Cell’, if you please.”

Millie climbed back down and put the wheelbarrow away, dusting her hands once it was back in place. She grinned as she saw her father step out of the house to make his way to the truck, and she ran up to him. “Papa! Are ya goin’ somewhere? Can I come?”

Her dad fiddled with the car keys. “Nah honey, I’m goin’ alone.”

She pouted at him, clenching her fists. “Papa I’ve not gone to town for five months, I wanna go and get some things.”

“If you need pads I can get ‘em for ya. The world went to hell Millie, it's best you stay here.” 

“You keep sayin’ that but everythin’ seems fine now. That was back in May. Papa I’m goin’ crazy just sittin’ here all day!”

“Millie, shut up and don't raise your voice at me. It's for your own good now get inside and watch a movie.”

“But-”

He grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her towards the house, opening the front door open and pushing her in. “Now you better still be inside when I get back. Ya hear me? I’ll buy ya a new movie while I’m in town. What do ya want? Fantasy movie again?”

She rubbed her arm which was sore and pouted. After a moment she replied. “The movie articles in the papers said there was somethin’ about a magic board game… Jumanji I think.”

“Magic board game, got it.” Her father headed back out and Millie sat down and put in one of the movies she still liked to watch despite having seen it so many times.

Her father came home just before the credits started playing, groceries in tow. “Millie, honey I’m sorry for grabbin’ ya like that. I got ya the movie you wanted, and some things so you can bake at least ten cakes. I know ya like baking.”

Millie got up and went over everything he got. “Want me to make one tonight?”

“I’d love that. I love your cooking honey.” he gave her cheek a pinch and then handed her the movie, “Shop owner says a lot of new movies are coming in. I’ll buy all the ones I think you will like for christmas.”

Millie’s pout finally left and she smiled at her father. “Thanks. I’d love that.”

Millie focused on her new movie for a few days, watching it over and over again like she did with anything new. She forgot, amazingly, about the weird man that was up in the loft until a week later when she heard her father talking to the farmhand.

“Basil, the cow needs more hay for her stall. It's gettin’ colder and I would hate for Old Emma to freeze.” 

Millie stopped her movie and rushed out onto the porch. “Wait! No, you can't go up there!”

Her father frowned at her. “And why not, Millie?” he asked, clearly annoyed.

“The… The barn cat had kittens again. You know how she gets when she has her kittens. She’s gonna scratch Basil up, and he might hurt the babies.” She clutched her hands and made doe eyes at her father, “The cat only lets me near her babies. You know that. I’ll get the hay until they grow up.”

Her father sighed heavily. “Allright. Go up there and get the hay. I’ll watch ya and make sure you don't fall.”

Millie climbed up the ladder, and Cell was still there. His eyes were closed, though she could see his eyes darting widely behind his purple eyelids. She took the hay fork and started dumping a few pounds of it down so her father could gather it up into the wheelbarrow.

“How are we doin’ for hay up there, Millie?”

She looked around, that green goop had ruined the hay that Cell was seated on. Still, there was a good amount. At least enough for Cell to use for a few months. “We’re good, Papa, though I think there is a leak up here. We may need to keep it down on the ground from now on. Would be safer too, don’t you think?”

Her father sighed heavily. “A leak? Damn… Alright. I’ll get a new order in. Basil, you get one of the empty stalls ready to store the hay from now on.”

“Yessir.” Basil nodded and went to get a few things to prep the stalls. Millie went back down, helping her father fill Emma’s stall with the fresh hay. Millie gave Emma a pat on the neck, and Emma shifted nervously.

“The strangest thing. Somethin’s spookin’ her.” Her father said, patting her neck, “Old girl doesn’t get this restless usually… Might be wild dogs.”

Millie baked a cake again that evening, and after dinner she made eggs and potatoes when her father went to bed, taking them and a slice of cake with some milk up to the loft. She turned on the lights inside the barn, making her way carefully up the ladder and then using the pulley to bring up the food. “Cell? I brought you some dinner. Are ya okay? I’m sorry I forgot you.”

“Oh it's quite alright. I don't need to eat, though the thought is appreciated.” He watched her carefully as she went to kneel by his side.

“Here, I’ll help you eat.” Millie insisted, ignoring his statement since everything needed to eat, especially if that something was as hurt as he was.

He rolled his eyes, but took the plate in his hand, and allowed her to feed him. He seemed genuinely annoyed by her help, and stranger still, didn't seem to know how to eat at all. He bit the fork, hard enough to make his teeth clack on the metal. And when she tried to help him drink his milk, he lapped at it like a dog would. 

“You sip the milk. Don’t drink it like a dog, silly.” She teased, and he glared at her, and for the first time he seemed terrifying. It was a nasty look that reminded her of a villain from a movie. She pulled away from him a bit. “I’m sorry. Did I upset ya?”

He smiled at her, his expression still sinister. “I informed you that I didn’t need to eat, didn’t I ?”

So then… Then he really didn’t know how to eat? Millie took the glass to her lips, and after a moment took a sip, then held it back out to him. “Like that.”

The sinister look in his eyes left, and he rolled them. Still he did as she did, taking a loud slurp from it. She felt it was best not to tell him slurping was rude, and just let him go at his own pace.

Finally she helped him eat the cake, which he seemed to actually like. A bit too much, as he dropped the dirty plate that had his eggs and potatoes and flat out reached for the slice and took it in hand, eating it like it was a sandwich.

She let him do as he wished, and smiled at him. “Do ya like my cake? Papa says I make the best cakes around.”

Cell finished, licking a crumb off his thumb. “If you insist on helping me, my dear, I will require nothing but water and that cake from now on.” he informed her, “No need to bring me it often either. Twice a week will do.”

“Wow… You really don’t need to eat do you?” She stacked the plates, still in awe about that, “But, if all ya need is cake and water, I can do that.”

She headed back home and turned in for the night.

Millie took up baking different cakes, and her father seemed happy that she had taken up baking more, and so he was happy to get her all she needed, be it things for the fillings, or whatever else.

Cell seemed amused, but pleased by her efforts. “All this for me? How flattering.”

“Well you're stuck up here all the time. I might as well make it fun for ya.” Millie said, smiling at him.

“And I do appreciate it.” He said, though his tone indicated he was mocking her. He really did have a big head. He must have been from the city and had a fancy education too.

Winter slowly crept closer, and the hay up top was running out. So she grabbed some garbage bags and duct tape and went up to Cell one day. “Alright, lift up your legs. I need to wrap this up.”

He raised a brow at her, and she knew exactly what she was doing. Her momma had done the same. “Please lift your legs.” she corrected, rolling her eyes.

Cell complied, and watched impassively as she dried his legs off, and then wrapped them up. With the plastic, then duct taped them until they were sealed. “This should stop that leaking.” She said, moving onto the other leg. “When momma’s horse got an abscess in his hoof she did the same kind of thing. It will keep it from leaking and keep stuff out.”

“Where is your mother?” Cell asked, and Millie looked up at him before looking away, moving to start with his side as she kept her face downcast, her hair hiding the fact she looked upset.

“I will take it by your silence that she is gone. With how your father behaves, I would hazard a guess that she ran off.”

Millie looked up at him with a glare and roughly jabbed her fingers into the weird grey flesh, and Cell flinched and leaned away from her, his hand covering where she had jabbed him. He got that terrifying look in his eye again. He really could look like a villain sometimes, however he did nothing to harm her and just sneered at her.

“I struck a nerve.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she assumed he was stating he had made her mad. “My momma didn’t run away.” Millie snapped, trying to shove Cell, though he remained immovable.

“Then she passed away, I take it? Forgive me. I am too hasty in my judgments it seems.” He set his hand on his chest and bowed his head.

He apologized at least when he upset her. She went back to wiping his torso down. “I’m sorry for pokin’ you there…” She mumbled, quickly putting the plastic over him before more of that slime dripped out.

“I take it that by your reaction you were old enough to remember her well. What was she like?”

“She was nice. She taught me how to bake. I don’t remember what she sounds like, but she would read to me at night.” She finished duct taping everything in place, and then started piling hay on top of him. “When it gets colder I’ll bring a blanket too.”

“It is not necessary. The cold has no effect on me.”

“You don't need to eat, you don't get cold… You seem like a superhero.” Millie finished, figuring him being warm would be better than cold even if it didn't bother him, ‘Well good night, Cell.”

He only nodded to her, leaning back on the hay and closing his eyes. 

The first snow came a week later, and so Millie brought an old blanket up, along with a book she liked. She figured he was even more bored then she was, as he could not even move, so she would read to him..

She brought an electric lantern, checking the barn heater for Emma and the goats, before she finally climbed up. It was nowhere near as warm up there as it was down where the animals slept. “Cell, I brought you a book and a blanket.”

He sighed heavily, opening his eyes. “A book? Do you plan on reading to me?”

“Yep. Momma and Papa read to me when I was sick. I figured you would like it like I did. It's something to do after all.” She sat next to him, and then tossed the blanket over the both of them, she set the lantern aside for when it got dark, and pulled the book out.

“This one’s called Matilda. It’s one of my favorites.” She opened the book up and began, unaware of Cell rolling his eyes, “‘It’s a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful’.”

Cell’s head flopped back on the pile of hay and he sighed in a dramatic fashion. Millie continued for a while, though she paused at the word ‘twaddle’. “Hey, you speak all fancy. What does twaddle mean?”

“It means it’s something trivial or foolish.” Cell said, “Much like this book.”

Millie frowned at him. “It's not foolish. It’s really fun.”

“A book about children is hardly fun.” Cell drawled. “Don’t you have something else?”

He had not even listened to enough to judge it fairly, but she indulged him. “Well, There are more books in the study, but I can’t understand them very well.”

Cell lifted his head and looked at her in a bewildered fashion. “How old are you?”

“I am twenty-two.” Millie said, face growing hot.

“You are twenty-two and you can't read beyond that? What is your education level?”

Millie got even hotter in the face, the heat spreading to her ears. She looked away from him. “Papa pulled me out of school when I was in the middle of sixth grade…” She said quietly.

Cell snorted. “I see… Then bring them to me, and I will read them.”

Millie left and got her hands on the series her mother had been reading to her before she had died. The Hobbit, which she had finished, and the Lord of the Rings, which she had never gotten to. Millie would not mind hearing The Hobbit again, though she remembered it fairly well.

She handed them to Cell, who looked them over for a moment. “Which is first?”

“The Hobbit. Then the Fellowship of the Ring, then the Two Towers, and finally Return of the King.” She got back under the blanket, finding it was very warm under there, “Momma read the Hobbit for me, but she never did get to the next one.”

Cell lifted a leg, and set the book's spine on the stump of his knee, and like that, proceeded to flip through The Hobbit like it was a flip book, then set it aside, holding his hand out to her. “The next one. I will read you that one.”

“You gotta read The Hobbit first.” Millie said, folding her arms over her chest.

“I did. There was a hole in the ground. A hobbit named Bilbo Baggins lived there. Gandalf came to see him and there came thirteen dwarfs. Bilbo goes on an adventure to reclaim the Lonely Mountain. Yada yada. Riddles in the Dark, he finds a ring. There is a dragon and then a war with five armies. The Dwarf leader Thorin dies. Yes. I know it all.”

He had barely even looked at it. There was no way he had read the whole thing in only a few seconds. “You read that before!”

“This is the first book I have ever read. It was decent, though I feel like the author was more of a linguist then an actual writer.” He held out his hand more insistently, and Millie finally gave him the book.

He flipped past a few pages. “Ugh… was this man a historian too? So much frivolous information… Ah finally, the actual first chapter… Ahem. “‘When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton’.”

Millie leaned on him, and listened. “What is eleventy-first?”

“One hundred and eleven.” Cell said, and he resumed, his deep voice quite relaxing to listen to. Millie looked up at him and watched him as he read, flipping pages for him when he needed, and listening as he took on various tones to emulate the emotions of those speaking. He seemed to get into the reading, and eventually completely changed his voice, creating several voices for the characters. She looked at him in awe. He really was not human at all was he?

“‘I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.This was unexpected and rather difficult. There was some scattered clapping, but most of them were trying to work it out and see if it came to a compliment’.” Cell read at one point, and Millie’s brow furrowed, 

“What does that first part mean?”

“It is a bit confusing. He is essentially saying ‘I don’t know some of you very well, and a few of you I ought to like better’.” Cell explained.

“So he is intentionally making it confusing?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Millie looked up at him and grinned. “So he’s rubbin’ his education in their faces like you do to me sometimes.”

Cell snorted, an amused grin on his face. “I suppose so.”

He managed about four chapters, and he probably would have managed more had Millie not asked so many questions. At times he seemed annoyed, but he helped her regardless. She gathered her books and the lantern, and headed in for the night.

She continued to visit him, and it grew colder and colder. Her father eventually caught on that she was spending time inside in the barn, and soon put his foot down.

“It's the middle of winter, you could catch your death out there Millie.” he snapped at her, blocking her way out the house.

“But Papa the kittens-”

“If those kittens die it’s the barn cat’s fault for havin’ them so late in the fall. And if I catch ya out there again I’m takin my shotgun and killing all of those stupid cats. Now get in your room.”

Millie’s eyes grew wet and her lip wobbled. She sobbed and turned and ran up the stairs. Cell said he had no need to eat, so he would be fine, but she still worried. And if her father went up there with his shotgun, He most certainly would shoot him.

So she obeyed. She didn't go to the barn for the rest of winter. She hoped Cell would not be mad at her. In fact she hoped that he would be better by then and long gone

The weather was fairly bad that year, even getting a blizzard at one point. Millie worried constantly for Cell, and her father noticed she was upset. He got her the movies he promised, and a few dresses too. He was like that. She would not deny her father loved her and was nice, but he was trapping her in the house, and so overprotective she could not do anything without begging, and even then it often did not work.

She longed for spring.

It came eventually, though it was still a few weeks before she was finally let outside. She hurried up into the loft, and Cell was still there. He smirked at her.

“I would say I was worried you forgot about me, but I know your father would not let you out.”. He had pulled off his garbage bag bandages at one point and he was oozing freely again.

“Are ya okay? Do you need me to get you water?” Millie kneeled by him and looked at his legs, then the wound on his side. The flesh there was as grey as ever, however it now seemed to be pulsating and squirming. She did not remember it doing that. “Your flesh is moving.”

“Yes. I think I am getting closer to finally being able to finish my regeneration.” He held his side a moment, grinning. “As for the water, no need. I am fine. Though I did miss the cake, and I missed the company.”

“I missed ya too, Cell. I was really worried.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he grew stiff, his head leaning away from her.

After a moment he cleared his throat, and Millie pulled away. “Sorry… I guess you ain’t the hugging type.”

“I have never been hugged.” Cell admitted.

“Really?” She asked, and she wondered if he had anyone at all, “Cell do ya even have family?” 

“Not in a sense you would understand. I had a creator, and he had other creations besides myself.” Cell set his hand on her shoulder and pushed her away, “I am unique. There is nothing like me. Nothing in this universe is as perfect as I am.”

“That sounds awful lonely.” Millie said, resting her hand over his. His face contorted in some strange undersernable expression, and he jerked his hand away from her.

“I wish to be alone.” He grumbled, looking away from her and looking mildly uncomfortable. She stood and left, climbing back down from the loft, and sparing the barn cat a pat on her head before she left.

Basil returned to help around the farm. He was an okay looking guy, Millie guessed, and nice too. He helped her brush Old Emma down, then looked at her from over the cow’s back. “You wanna come to town with me tonight and go dancin’?” he asked, beaming at her.

Millie felt her cheeks grow a bit hot. Was he asking her out on a date? She had never ever been on a date before. She really wanted to go, but her father would most certainly say no. She rubbed her hands together a moment.

“Go.”

She blinked, and Basil looked around a moment. “Who was that?” he asked.

She knew the voice. It had been Cell, encouraging her to go out. She played dumb, pretending she had heard nothing at all. “Said what?”

“I swore I heard someone say go…” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Oh. I didn’t hear nothin’. But, yeah. I’ll go dancin’ with ya. I’ll meet ya tonight by our mailbox.” His big grin was sweet, and the rest of the day he seemed to be extra happy.

She put on one of her favorite dresses and her tan work boots, then just walked out of the back door like she was a normal woman who had a nightlife. Basil was waiting in his truck at the mailbox, and he grinned at her, almost starstruck.

“Gosh Millie, you are pretty tonight.” He said, reaching over to unlock the door, “Get in we’re gonna go to a dance hall in town.

Millie got in, and the conversation was awkward, but cheerful. What she did over winter, what he did over winter. How the kittens she had fibbed about were.

They arrived after a twenty minute drive. The dance hall was a big old building filled with people and homemade food brought in by the locals. Millie enjoyed the food, and the drink, and the dancing. Despite her father always saying boys as young as Basil were only after one thing, the young man was very polite, and they had, at the most, held hands when she pulled him onto the dance floor so the two of them could dance more.

The locals were happy to see her, some of the older folks stating they had been worried about her. It had been nearly a year since she had last been in town.

“Good to see your pa let you off the farm. I keep tellin’ him he’s doin’ more harm than good by being the way he is.” an old lady said, patting her hand.

“He doesn’t listen to me, so I doubt he would listen to you either.” Millie said, feeling for the first time bitter at her father.

They headed home at about midnight, Milliie and Basil chatting more freely now. He pulled up to the mailbox, looking at her and grinning. “I had a lot of fun, Millie. I hope we can go on a date again.”

“I’d love to. It was so fun. Maybe see a movie at the theatre. I’ve not had movie popcorn since I was ten.” She turned to open her door, and came face to face with her father, who looked down right furious.

He yanked the door open and grabbed her arm. “Basil, get the hell off my land and never come back.”

Basil looked shocked, “But sir-”

“If I see ya again I’ll shoot you. Now get out of here.” He roughly yanked Millie out of the truck, and dragged her to the house, Millie pleading with him to let her go.

He shoved her into the door, red in the face. “What did you do with him?!”

“We danced Papa, that's it. Everyone there was happy to see me. You keep me locked up so much everyone is worried about me!” Millie shouted back.

“It's for your own damn good! Boys like that only care about one thing, and that’ll knock you up. You wanna be dead like your mother?”

“Basil is a good man, Papa, he was nothing but a gentleman. He didn't even try to kiss me!”

“You wouldn’t know a good man if he fell in your damned lap. You are too young to know what a good man is!”

“Well you certainly ain’t a good man!” Millie shrieked, and a vein bulged on her father’s temple. He promptly slapped her, and the moment he did he looked horrified. 

“Oh god. Oh Millie honey I’m so sorry.” He pulled her into a hug and pet her head, and Millie burst into tears, “I didn’t mean to. I mean it darlin’.”

He sat on the couch and held her, rubbing her arms and petting her hair like he would do when she had been little and scraped her knee when she tripped. Millie just sobbed until her fingers got tingly and stiff. When she had calmed into sniffling, her father got her water, then sent her up to bed.

“Please don’t go out again, Millie.” He pleaded, “I love you… I would hate to lose you. You know that.”

She didn’t reply to him, and simply flopped into bed, not even bothering to get undressed. That had been the first time her father had hit her.

The next day she ate her breakfast in silence, and didn’t even look at her father, who still looked destroyed at what he did. When she went up to the loft, books in hand, Cell had no smirk or grin on his face. His expression was stern.

“I am sorry.” He said, and he looked confused by his own apology.

“It was the most fun I’ve had in a while. So don’t be.” Millie walked up to him and changed the hay under him out for some that was dry and fresh. “You should let me wrap you up again.”

“It just sloshes around. Quite disgusting, honestly.” He held out his hand to her, smirking finally, “Here, give me the book. I’ll continue.”

Millie sat next to him and handed him the book. He went to where they last left off, just after the Council of Rivendell. After a few pages he handed her the book to hold, and set his hand on her head, pulling her to lean on him.

She rested her head on his chest, his voice vibrating in her ear as he read, and under that she heard his heart. It was a strange sound, no true beat, instead only sounding like a soft whooshing.

Cell then grew silent, and before she could ask what he was doing, her father called up to her. “Millie? Are ya up in the loft?”

Millie remained silent for a bit before replying. “Yeah.”

“Are ya readin’ up there? I could come up and read to ya. Like how your mother and I did when you were a kid.”

Cell’s hand seemed to squeeze her a little closer to his chest, and she heard his heart woosh faster.

“I don’t wanna talk to you, Papa.” Millie called back down, growing angry.

“Alright… I understand. But maybe we could do it another time, make a picnic out of it.” He left, and Cell did not speak until a good minute after her father’s boots faded away.

Millie pressed her cheek more firmly on Cell’s chest, puffing her hair out of her eyes. “I’m so mad at him right now.... I can’t believe he thinks I would wanna read with him after that.”

“He’s trying to make up for it.” Cell reasoned, though he sounded almost amused.

“Well I’m not gonna forgive him so easily. I’m not a kid. I can tell what a good man is. I am not five.” she huffed angrily.

“And what is a good man?”

“Well, Basil was but Papa chased him away... And you too, Cell.”

Cell’s chest shook, and he let out a wheeze. She pulled away with a start, looking on as he started laughing. He rested his hand on his chest and he tossed his head back, a deep loud laugh leaving his lips as his body shook.

She had never noticed how handsome he was. Her brows lowered in a determined stare and she shifted, getting up to stand on her knees. Cell turned to look at her, a large grin on his face as he moved to wipe his eye. 

“Forgive me for laughing. I-” He stopped talking and locked his pink eyes with her green ones, his eyes then darting around a little as she leaned in closer. “What-”

She did her best to mimic what the movies did, her hand cupped his jaw and she moved in, placing her lips on his. She felt Cell stiffen, his shoulders rising in tension. Millie pulled away slowly, her cheeks and ears hot.

She looked away after a moment. “Sorry…” she mumbled.

She felt the armor on Cell’s shoulder grow warmer under her fingers. She looked back at him, and his pupils had dilated. He grabbed her jaw in his large hand and yanked her back forwards, his lips on hers again.

He let her face go to grasp her back. Cell didn’t seem to know what came next with such a passionate moment, as his lips simply remained on hers, unmoving. So Millie again mimicked movies she had seen, mouth opening and her tongue running over his lower lip. Cell caught on quickly, his temperature spiking higher as his own tongue swiped along hers, then slipped into her mouth.

He learned fast.

Cell pulled away from her, face in her neck as he pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling his hips. He inhaled deeply, arm squeezing around her so tightly she could not breath well. “C-Cell…”

He opened his mouth, his tongue sliding over her pulse. She felt a thrill go up her spine, and she grew hot between her legs. She didn’t know what was happening exactly when it came to her body’s responses but she did know what this kind of closeness could lead to.

And she was not opposed to doing that, though she was nervous. Her father always said it hurt terribly. She set her hands on the back of his neck, the heat between her legs now all over her body. “Is it going to hurt?”

Cell paused, his hand moving to grasp the back of her neck, allowing her a moment to breath. She wondered what was taking him so long to reply, and had she been able to see his face, she would have seen the look of frustration on his every feature.

“Cell?”

“It might.” he finally answered, “But only for a moment.”

She found she trusted Cell more then her own father in this moment. Her father slapping her had made her question why the others at the dance hall had said they had been worried about her. Did they think her father from the beginning was capable of hurting her? How much worse would this get?

She wrapped her arms around Cell gently. She knew what she wanted right at that moment. “Make love to me.”

His grip on the back of her neck grew tighter, and his chest vibrated with a rumble. “I am at a disadvantage…”

“I don't care if you have one arm or none. I wanna make love with you.” Millie declared, huffing stubbornly, though she felt the slightest bit of nervousness still. His hand slid off her neck, and he pulled away.

“Undress then. We don't want to get your clothes dirty.”

Millie reached back behind her, hesitating for a moment, before she slid the zipper down. She had no bra, as the dress had one built in. She took the hem in her hand and with a bright red face, lifted it up, and over her head. She realized she would have to stand anyway, so she got up, and carefully set it on an old crate.

“Uhm… I’m gonna keep my shoes on. Could be nails up here.” she said, doing her best not to look at him.

“If you insist.” was all Cell said.

She then, her face so hot she figured she was the color of a cherry, slid her panties down her hips and stepped out of them. They joined her dress, and she held her arm sheepishly as she continued to avoid looking at him.

Cell said nothing, and after a bit she looked at him. His expression was blank. His eyes darted over her body but there was no usual smirk. He just looked at her like she elicited no feelings in him at all. She held her arm tighter and suddenly felt like this was a mistake.

“Say somethin’…” Millie mumbled, “Am I pretty? Do I make you feel anythin’ at all?”

“I don’t know how I feel right now.” Cell admitted, “I have never taken the time to look at anyone and wonder if they were attractive to me. I am not even sure if I can feel attraction in that way.”

What kind of life did he live? The more she knew Cell, the more he seemed to live a life a lot like hers. Not exactly the same, as his life seemed to be dangerous, given the injuries he had, but closed off, inexperienced, though it was in ways far different then hers.

He had never known the love of a parent. He didn’t know what it meant to find someone attractive. He didn’t know how to eat. He was able to read yet he claimed to have never read a book before he met her. He seemed to be lonely, even more lonely then she was.

“... I think you are handsome.” Millie said, “Much more handsome then Basil was.”

He finally smirked, chuckling. “Ah, well that's good. It would be unfortunate that the perfect being would be less attractive than some farmhand.”

That was the second time he called himself perfect. She wondered what he meant. He talked like he wasn’t a real person. Was he created to be ‘perfect’?” Had he not been born like she had?

Millie returned to him, getting back in his lap and wrapping her legs around his waist. She held him and gave him a squeeze, her face burying in his chest. His hand returned to her back, his fingers massaging her muscles then slowly sliding down. He moved his hand to rest on her thigh, and then pushed against it.

“I can not touch you if you are so close to me.”

She felt her gut twist, and she pulled away, sitting on one of his thighs. She kept her knees together, her face hot as she avoided even looking in his general direction. His hand moved and pulled her to lean on him, petting her ginger hair before he slid his fingers down her neck and arm, his black nails lightly scratching her skin.

Instantly the hair on her arms stood on end, and she watched his hand move to rest on her knee. He gave it a push, and she let him push her leg aside.

“Are you afraid?” he asked, and Millie looked up at him.

“I’ve ain't ever once been afraid of you.” She admitted, her heartbeat speeding up as his hand slid down her thigh and inched closer to between her legs.

He chuckled, almost shaking his head like he was at a loss with her. Before she could say anything, his fingers brushed her pubic hair, then sank between the folds of her vulva. He held his fingers there, and he leaned down, his mouth by her ear.

“Oh my… You are already quite wet.”

“W-wet?” his fingers did not move, yet it already felt very good. She watched as he pulled his fingers away, a slick slime coating his fingers. “I don't know what that means…”

Cell chuckled and nuzzled her cheek. His fingers slipped back between her legs, rubbing slowly along her sensitive flesh. His fingers brushed against something, and she grabbed his wrist, squeaking loudly.

Whatever he had touched had felt far too intense. His fingers remained, and her legs clamped over his hand, her eyes squeezing shut. “W-Wait! What are you touchin?”

She looked at him and noticed Cell’s eyes were unfocused and darting side to side like he was rapidly reading something. “I am rubbing your clitoris.” he finally said, his eyes focusing back on her “Does it hurt?”

“No, it just-” She lost her voice again as his fingers resumed rubbing, then they slid down, and one went inside her. “Wait! Your fingers don’t go there.” She grabbed his shoulder, as he curled it inside her, his thumb back on her clitoris.

He moved his hand up and down, embarrassing wet sounds emanating from her. No matter how hard she squeezed her legs together, Cell’s hand kept moving, up and down. Her belly felt weird, like it was growing super tight. “I… I need to pee… I…”

“No you don’t.” Cell moved and caught her lips in a kiss, and the tightness released, her hips shook and she ground herself harder onto his hand, her left leg cramping from the tension. She pulled away and stretched her leg out. “Ow.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, my leg cramped.” Millie mumbled, aside from that, whatever Cell did felt great, “What was that?”

“An orgasm. It's what happens if your partner knows what he is doing.”

Ah, there was his big head again. “I liked it.” She finally allowed her legs to open more, though she did note she felt a little sore. Cell pulled his hand away a moment, and she felt her stomach drop when she saw just a little bit of blood streaked with the slick slime.

“I… I’m bleeding.”

Cell’s chest rumbled, so deeply it made his chest shake. It was then Millie noticed there was something hot and wet poking the thigh closest to Cell.

She moved her leg, and it was then she saw what she assumed was his penis. She kinda knew what a man’s penis looked like and she also knew what they were for. She had seen boys play around naked at the river when she had been little, and had gotten some form of the talk from her father when she had her first period.

This was absolutely nothing like what she had seen. It was big, deep purple and slimy. It even seemed to twitch periodically, like it had a pulse of its own. “Oh…” was all she could muster to say. It was intimidating. Would that even fit?

It had to, she guessed. Women pushed babies out of there. If they could push out a baby, she could put that in there if she wanted to. She reached out, and after a moment set her fingertips on it. It was hot, and as slimy as it looked. She glanced at Cell, and he was looking at her, smirking.

“Perhaps you do make me feel something.” Cell teased, leaning down and kissing her. Millie closed her eyes and the nervousness eased. Her hand wrapped around him and she figured if he used his hand, she could use hers. She moved her hand up and down, and Cell made a sound into her mouth.

That little sound, a grunt at most, made her temperature spike higher. She moved, once again wrapping her legs around his waist, setting herself to rub her core against the underside of his length.

Cell pulled away from the kiss, his hand grasping her ass. “If we have sex right now, you might become pregnant. Is that what you want?”

She remembered her father telling her that if she got pregnant she would die. Just like her mother did. She looked into Cell’s pink eyes. “Will I die if I have your baby?”

Cell tossed his head back and laughed, leaning forward after a bit to rest his cheek on the top of her head “Die? Why would you die?”

“Papa said-”

Cell snorted. “Have you considered that your papa lies to you? That he lies to control your actions?” Cell asked as he tilted his head at her, his eyes narrowing as he grinned like a cat.

Her lips wobbled and she felt like crying angry tears. She was so furious at her father all of a sudden. He was trying to control her. Telling her boys only wanted one thing from her, saying sex hurt, saying having children was garenteed to kill her. She even doubted the world was as ‘gone to heck’ as he claimed.

To hell with anything her father ever told her. Right now this was what she wanted. And if it got her pregnant, so be it.

“I don’t care.” Millie huffed finally, doing her best to keep her voice even, “So just make love to me.”

Cell rumbled low in his chest. “As you wish.”

He leaned back, Millie rising to rest a knee on his hip, allowing her to take his penis in hand and hold it against her. The head rubbed against her folds, and she swallowed nervously.

“It may be better to drop on it.” Cell offered, and Millie nodded. Sometimes it was better to do things fast. She took a moment to line him up so she was certain he would slip inside, even lowering just a bit so her vulva enveloped the head of his penis.

Millie took a deep breath and pushed herself down, taking him in until he rather roughly hit the end. She made another squeak, and then the pain hit. It certainly hurt, but it was not the agony her father said it would be. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking deep breaths through her nose.

Cell moved his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her lips. “See? It's not that bad now is it?”

She shook her head, and he pulled her to lean on him. “One day I hope to have you under me.” Cell sighed, “Once I have my limbs back, I will pin you under me and have my way with you… Now when you are ready, move your hips.”

She felt herself clench around him at that, a thrill shooting up her spine. The pain slowly ebbed away, and finally she shifted to set her feet on the floor, allowing herself to slowly start rocking her hips. His hand moved to grip her hip, firm and like a vice. His thumb moved to rub her clitoris, and Millie shuddered, a breathy moan leaving her throat.

One hand reached down to grab his wrist and she pushed herself harder down on him, eyes watering as the pleasure built up, muscles coiling tighter again. She could grow to like this. It felt amazing. “C-Cell~”

He chuckled, his hips lifting to slam up into hers, she saw stars in her vision, her back arching. He kept it up, his vice like grip helping him move her.

She had no idea he could still move this much. He moved her easily like she weighed nothing, even though he had only one hand to hold her. She felt his fingers twist her skin in his movements, and she felt a moment of terror that he would bruise her.

Surely he would? She squeezed his wrist tighter. “Cell- wait I- Ah!”

He suddenly pushed her down, holding her in place and he came inside her. His thumb moved so fast over her clitoris it seemed impossible, and in only a few seconds she had another little orgasm, her body shaking as she held her breath, squeezing her eyes shut.

She sagged against him, his chest hard but warm against her skin. After a long while she smiled softly. “I love you a lot Cell.” He laughed at her when she said that and she frowned at him, “Why are you laughing at me?”

“You said it so quickly and easily it seems like a joke. Forgive me, I am unused to being liked by someone, let alone loved.”

“You have never been loved by someone?”

Cell looked to the side snorting. “No never. I already told you I had no family in a human sense. And do not pity me over it. It has never bothered me, but... I suppose love is pleasant.”

Millie leaned up, kissing his lips softly, and she felt his lips curl into that smug smile she found so attractive. She pulled away, smiling a little longer before she looked at where his hand was. The skin was red, like back when a boy had twisted her arm in the second grade.

No bruise yet but it could happen. At least it was in a place she could hide easily. She sighed heavily, rocking her hips a moment before lifting herself off. “I have to go back now. I may be a few days.”

“Maybe a mid day visit.” Cell said, flashing his teeth at her.

That could work. She didn’t have a lot to do, even now with the farmhand gone, just a few extra chores. “The day after tomorrow then, I will come see you.”

She brought the books with her when she came to see him again, though they made little use of them. They spent their time having more sex, her back to him as she panted, lost to the sensations. His hand rested on her back, slowly stroking it up and down, but otherwise silent.

Deep down she hoped she would get pregnant. She didn’t really know why. She had not thought about babies and being a mother since her own died when she was a child.

She could remember her mother and father going to the clinic in town to have her baby brother, and only her father coming home, distraught and inconsolable. He had taken all her baby dolls and burned them.

She only learned later that night after much crying that her momma and her baby brother were dead. She was never allowed to have baby dolls and such toys ever again, and whenever pregnancy and motherhood came up, her father told her it only resulted in death.

But Millie’s mother had her right? And women had babies all the time. Sometimes a whole lot of them. If they could do it and live, so could she.

The only issue was her father. Cell could not leave the loft and though more mobile then she had realized, he was still crippled. Even now after a year of him insisting he would grow everything back, there was no sign of healing, his wounds still leaking that slime and had not even healed over.

She finished with a shudder, lifting herself off him and flopping back on his chest, his penis between her thighs as she rubbed them together. Cell groped her chest, laughing.

“Don’t feel like letting me finish inside? I’m hurt.” He wasn’t clearly, his tone was playful and condescending like always. 

She shifted, reaching down and taking him in her hand. With more confidence than she had the previous time, she stroked him up and down, slime dripping down her hands as she massaged the glans firmly. Cell let out a shaky breath, the only sign he would give that he was enjoying it. After a few minutes he twitched in her hands, a ribbon of cum shooting out and landing on her stomach.

Cell rested his hand on the top of her head. “Your hands are like torture. I loved it.” He pulled her up to be more level with his face, and he nibbled on her ear, making Millie shudder.

She rolled over and kissed him, resting her head under his chin after a few soft pecks. “So… Am I pretty to ya then?” she asked, looking up at him.

He chuckled, chest shaking as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I think so.”

April ended and flowed into May. Millie did her best to pace her visits with Cell, though she found it hard. Her father was getting concerned with her spending all her time in the loft.

“Did the cat have more kittens?” he asked at the table, eating the slice of pie Millie made.

“Yeah she did.” The cat had indeed had more kittens though they were in with the chickens and not in the loft. Her dad though was focused more on work in the neighbors farm to really notice.

“Maybe I should get that cat spayed.” Her father mumbled.

A few days later, her father finally took her to town. Millie pulled on her shorts, but found them tight around her middle. She could fasten it, but the fabric dug into her skin. She went into the store with her father, and got herself a few things she wanted and hoped to charm her dad into getting.

“It's almost been a year since that Cell had his games.” an old local man said to the clerk.

Millie lowered the book she had been looking over, curiosity piqued. Had that man said Cell’s name? She walked over to him. “Mister, did ya say Cell?”

Almost instantly her father got in her way. “Millie, you want that book?” he asked, tone gruff, indicating he wasn’t happy. She shied away from him, and he tried to soften his tone, “Is that all you want?”

Millie had come to notice her father's habits. When she did something, or asked something he didn't like, he would distract her with gifts, and if that didn’t work he would try to scare her into dropping it, then quickly make up for it with more gifts. He knew something about what that old man said, but she also knew he would never tell her, and he would never let someone else tell her.

She did not press, and answered her father. “Yeah, I want this one, and can ya get me some rice cereal and marshmallows? I wanna make rice krispies.”

Her father’s eyes lit up. “How ‘bout some chocolate to dip ‘em in?”

She got a bit excited herself. “Alright, that sounds perfect. Oh, and if ya gettin’ marshmallows and chocolate, maybe gram crackers too. We can make a fire and make smores.”

Her father wrapped his arm around her and led her away, to where the groceries were. She was annoyed she had not been able to ask the old man and get an answer, but she was going to get Cell more sweet treats.

If Cell liked cake, he would probably like rice krispy treats and smores too.

Cell was rather…. Subdued when she came up to see him a day or two later. He was looking out of the hole in the barn, face pensive. He looked at her after a moment, his pretty pink eyes narrowing at her. “You went to town finally.”

“Yeah. Papa got me lots of things. Here. I made some rice krispies. Homemade and better than the store kind.” She kneeled by him, smiling up at him, “Are ya okay? You seem sad.”

Cell’s lips moved and he looked away, back out of the hole. “It's been a year… And I still have not recovered.”

“I think you are doin’ pretty well. The armor on your side grew back didn’t it?.” Millie said, sitting herself on his thigh, “Ya know, I heard an old man say your name in town.”

His eyes narrowed and his lips curled ever so slightly. “Oh? Anything else?”

“Naw not really. Something ‘bout a game, but Papa got in the way and I didn’t get to ask anythin’.” She held the plate up to him, “Go on. It’s dipped in chocolate. I think you will like it.”

Cell looked at her fully then, smirking at her and reaching up to pinch her cheek. “You are too sweet and innocent for your own good, Millie.” he said, his hand moving down to touch her neck. She blinked as he wrapped his long fingers around it, swallowing but still smiling at him.

“You are being silly today, Cell.” She teased, and his hand moved away finally, down to rest over her stomach for a moment. He made that deep rumble in his chest again, before he finally took the food, and took a bite.

His eyes widened, and he shoved the rest of it in his mouth, then took the other on the plate. “I want more of this.” he demanded, and Millie tutted him.

“There ain't no more. But I'll try and sneak you smores, later.”

Millie never did get to give Cell smores. She had been quite hungry, and the hunger got only more pronounced as time went on. She was soon eating like she was two grown men every meal, though she did her best to hide it when her father got nosy, snacking almost all day.

Granted she had no idea why she was so hungry, so she was not sure what he would find out.

May went into June, and her clothes got tighter. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, hands framing her stomach. There was a very visible swell to it. None of her dresses were baggy enough to hide it, and her shorts and skirts were now too tight to fasten.

She set her hand on top of it. It felt warmer than everything else. It took her a few moments to realize what it was.

Her momma had been like this at one point, when she had been a few months into her pregnancy with her little brother.

Millie was pregnant.

Dread filled her, not the happiness movies often showed. Her father would find out, and he would take the shotgun to Cell and kill him.

The door banged loudly, making her jump. Her father sounded angry, but also concerned. “Millie? It's been an hour since I told you to feed the chickens, get out there and do it. Are ya sick?”

She grabbed a thin jacket from her closet and wrapped it around her middle as a last ditch effort to hide it. She glanced at her reflection again, and it definitely hid it, but she was not sure how much longer.

She opened the door smiling sheepishly at her father. “Sorry Papa. I could not find the jacket I wanted.”

“Well maybe I should toss some of your clothes if you have too many to go through.” He snapped, though he huffed shortly after, “Are ya sure you are okay? You’ve been really skittish.”

“I’m okay, Papa. Really.” Millie stood on her tiptoes, gave his cheek a peck, and headed down the stairs. She pulled on her boots and went off to feed the chickens like he asked.

She tossed their feed onto the dirt and watched them peck, then sat on her bucket and rested a moment. She felt her stomach flutter, and she put her hand over it. Was her baby moving? She wondered if Cell knew already. He seemed very strange, able to tell anything and everything. He could tell when she was coming and when she left the farm.

It was like he could see through walls.

She would tell him tonight.

She got up and headed back in, and her father was waiting at the kitchen table. “Millie, how come you don't wear your skirts and shorts anymore?”

Millie fidgeted a little bit. “Oh, well I gained a lil’ weight. They don’t fit anymore.” Millie said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Her father frowned. “Well of course you did. With the way you’ve been eating. I’m gonna have to cut your meals in half. It's not healthy being overweight, Millie. It can kill ya.”

Millie instantly felt dread. If he starved her what would that do to the baby? “Papa it's just a few pounds, you don't have to go that far.” she reasoned.

“Well then I’ll cut your meals until you fit in your shorts again. I’m not takin’ ya out to get new crap when you can just lose a few to get back in the old stuff.”

No amount of reasoning would make him change his mind, and no amount of tears did it either. He said it was for her own good, like he always did, and so Millie had even less food that night for dinner. Not even the full serving she had gotten from before she was pregnant. She sniffed as she went out to the old barn that night, wiping her eyes as she made her way up to the loft.

Cell was where she left him, like always, the hay under him wet with the slime his wounds still oozed. He tilted his head at her, lifting his hand and motioning her closer. “Why are you crying?”

“Papa only fed me a fourth of what I’ve been eating recently.” Millie sniffled, starting to change out Cell’s hay for fresh.

“He is starving you?” Cell’s face contorted into an expression that was the scariest look yet.

“I gained weight and-”

“Yes I know you gained weight.” Cell interrupted her.

It was now or never. “Cell, I’m pregnant.” she blurted.

He had the smuggest grin yet on his face. Like the information pleased him. “Yes, I know.”

So he did already know. Millie finished laying out fresh straw under Cell’s mangled legs, and she sat herself between them, crying into his chest. “Cell I am scared. What’s gonna happen to the baby if I don't eat enough?”

“You will self abort the fetus, most likely.” Cell set his hand on her cheek, his thumb wiping away her tears, “But that won’t happen. I will have food for you in the morning.”

“How? You don’t got any legs. You got one arm.” She would have asked more questions had Cell not leaned in and silenced her with a kiss.

“I have my ways.” he said cryptically, his hand moved down to rest over her stomach. He snorted. “Do you regret it?”

Millie shook her head. “No I don’t! I love you.”

“You shouldn’t.” Cell said, hand moving lower still, sliding under her dress, “I am a terrible person, after all.”

“No you aren’t.” Millie insisted, biting her lip as Cell slid his finger slowly over her vulva through her panties.

“Oh, trust me I am. Your father would agree.” He rubbed more firmly, “Come closer to me.”

She would admit Cell could be scary and intimidating, but he was her little beacon of happiness. He treated her like a grown woman and not a child. He didn’t threaten to take her things and scream at her. He encouraged her to be independent. How could someone like that be terrible?

She moved closer, Cell’s lips at her ear. “You are mine.” he whispered, and Millie nodded.

“All yours.” she affirmed, and Cell pushed her panties aside, fingers sinking inside her. He fingered her slowly, lips on her neck. She moaned softly. “Don’t leave a mark.” she reminded him, and Cell’s body shook with a suppressed laugh.

“Of course.”

He pulled her panties down, and lifted her up easily with his only arm, setting her to ride him. She held his hand in hers, fingers linked as she bounced. She guessed there was no reason to worry about a baby now, if she already was pregnant.

Not that she had ever worried about it.

“I love you.” Millie panted, rocking her hips and grinding herself on his hard pelvis. “Cell, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Cell said, his voice even and a smirk on his face, “You are the only thing on this planet that means anything to me.” 

“I-I am?”

“Yes. No one on this planet mattered to me… Not until you.”

It was such an extreme thing to say, but at the same time so sweet. She finished with a shudder, rocking her hips a little more, and smiling as she felt Cell bloat inside her and cum as well. She leaned over him, kissing his chest. 

“You promise you’ll have food for me?”

“I promise.” He kissed the top of her head, and the two of them quietly enjoyed one another’s presence.

She went to bed very hungry that night, and hungrier still in the morning. She went up to the loft after breakfast, and was surprised to see Cell had remained true to his word.

Canned foods. Soups, vegetables… pretty much anything that could sit up there with him and not spoil. Millie ate ravenously, downing two cans of soup, a can of pears, a can of cream of mushrooms, and finally a can of mixed vegetables. Cell watched her with mild amusement, his head tilted as he watched her scarf it all down.

“Don't fret about how much you eat. I will get you more.” he assured her, and Millie at least had one less thing to worry about.

June soon became July, and Millie was now showing enough that even wrapping the jacket around her middle was not quite enough. She had to leave, but she had nowhere to go. She could not drive, though Cell seemed to have his own means to get around.

She was fiddling with her jacket, trying to find a way to tie it around herself. She had to get going and do her chores soon. Maybe she should get a bulkier jacket… It would be weird to have one when it was so warm outside, but she was running out of options.

She took the lighter jacket off, going to her closet to get a jean jacket to tie around her waist. There was a knock on the door, and before she could act, Her father was already entering her room.

“Damn it Millie I need you to help me with the…” He stared at her, or more importantly at her stomach.

“Papa-”

“Wh… What did you do?!” He sounded like a wounded animal, loud and sad, he got red in the face, eyes wet as he charged at her, grabbing her arm so hard it made her start crying, “Why would you do this to yourself! I told you it would kill ya!”

“No it won’t, you are a paranoid idiot!” Millie yelled back, yelping as her father shook her.

“Don't talk to me like that! Who did this to you? Was it that boy Basil? I warned you about him!”

“It wasn’t Basil! Let me go!”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I ain’t lying!” Millie cried, and her father dragged her out of her room. She almost fell down, he was pulling her along so hard.

“If you can’t tell me the truth then you can't be in this house.” He dragged her to the front door, and out onto the porch. He threw her off, Millie falling down and scraping her knees and hands on the dirt from trying to stop herself from falling on her stomach.

The door slammed behind her, and she heard the door lock. She sobbed, vision blurry from her tears. She got up with a stagger and she stumbled to the barn. “Cell!” She wailed, climbing up the ladder, hyperventilating by the time she got to the top.

Cell was seated in his usual spot, and Millie ran to him, arms wrapped around his wide chest as she sobbed. Cell pet her hair, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He shushed her soothingly, his hand sliding down to rest on her back, pulling her closer.

“I will protect you.” he assured her, his voice had a strained edge to it, and he just seemed to be trembling with some sort of energy. He cradled her for a long time, until Millie finally started to calm down.

He kissed her forehead, then each eye. She didn’t know why, but she believed him. He only had one arm, but she felt like he could keep her safe.

“Millie?! Millie are ya up in the loft again?” 

Millie stiffened and pressed herself closer to Cell’s chest, her heart rate picking up. “Go away!” she shrieked, “I don’t wanna talk to ya!”

“Millie, we gotta talk. I’m sorry for tossing you out. I got so mad but don’t worry. I will take care of ya. Like I always have.” She heard the wooden ladder creak, and she pulled away from Cell. Her father was coming up.

“Papa leave me alone!” She blinked as Cell set his hand on her shoulder, and pushed her to sit by his side. She watched as her father climbed up, standing and staring at them both.

His tan skin went ashen, and his eyes widened as a look of horror crossed his face. “M-Millie, get the hell away from him. That man is evil.”

Her father reached for the hay fork, and she moved to stand, but Cell laughed. 

“That stupid farm tool won’t do anything to me.” His voice was strained, and his body started shaking. His nose wrinkled and then, with a disgusting squelch, his right arm suddenly grew back, the green goo that had been oozing from his wounds dripping off it.

He was shaking all over now, teeth bared. Millie watched as the grey flesh that was exposed on his legs quivered, and then, much to her shock, regenerated what had been missing. Cell then stood up, and his wings grew back, one almost hitting her in the face.

The final part to regenerate was his broken crest. Cell lifted both his hands up and clenched his fists, his legs taking a wide stance and his grin truly something from the villains she had seen in her movies, teeth bared and eyes wide. He flexed his muscles, and a shockwave shot from him, tossing her back, and sending her father falling from the loft with a yell.

“Papa!” Millie scurried to the ledge of the loft, looking down at him. He had the hay fork clutched to his chest, and his face was pained, but he was alive. 

“Papa don’t move I’m gonna come down there and check on ya.” She stood, but Cell’s large hands took her under her arms and picked her up, cradling her like a bride. He almost floated down from the loft, gently landing a ways away from her father. 

“Check on him Millie. After that we are leaving.”

She looked up at him, and despite that power he had demonstrated, she didn't feel scared. He looked at her with the same smugness he always had, and his pink eyes were gentle. She nodded. “Okay.”

He set her down, and Millie went to her father, helping him sit up, taking the hay fork from him and tossing it aside. “Papa how is your back?”

“Millie you can’t leave with that thing.” he grabbed her, holding her face in one of his weathered hands. “He ate everyone Millie. Everyone in town, he ate them!”

“Papa. everyone in town is fine.” Millie scolded, “Did you hit your head?”

“Millie, I swear to you, he ate everyone. There was just clothes when I went there to get seeds. Nothin but clothes. And he was on TV and said it was him, he said he ate Gingertown too. He said he was gonna kill us all.”

“Is it Chazke Village we are near?” Cell asked suddenly from behind them. “I thought everything looked femailar when I went looking for food for you. What are the chances indeed.”

Millie didn’t know what to think, but her father was clearly not all there in the head. Everyone was there in town. Alive and fine. “Daddy… You can’t lie to me anymore. I’m goin’ with Cell, and I’m gonna have his baby.”

“Millie I know it sounds crazy but it's real! He killed all of the military. He wiped them out, I swear.”

Millie glared at her father and stood up, going back to Cell, who picked her up and set her on his arm. Cell nuzzled her gently, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Now, I don’t want you to come looking for my Millie.” Cell said, talking like he was scolding a child, “When Millie wants to see you, that is when you will see her. Until then, you sit here, and think about how you messed up your pathetic life.”

He walked out of the barn, his legs making a funny sound with every step he took. He lifted off the ground, and Millie had to wrap her arms around his neck to make herself feel secure.

Cell was exactly like a superhero. Almost like Superman himself.

He flew away from the farm, over Chazke Village. “Where do you want us to live, Millie?”

“I… I wanna live near West City.” Millie declared, and Cell veered to the right and picked up speed, so fast Millie had to close her eyes to stop the wind from stinging them. It stopped almost as soon as it started, and she heard Cell land on grass. She opened her eyes, and found herself on the top of a rolling hill, and in the distance was West City.

“I think the house will look wonderful here.” Cell said, looking out over the landscape, “A little homestead for us, and our child.”

“I agree.” Millie kissed his cheek, and Cell set her on her feet, holding her face in his hands as he looked down at her, a small little smirk on his handsome face. His eyes though soon trailed away from hers, and he turned his head, his smirk growing.

Millie turned and followed his gaze. There was a boy at the foot of the hill, looking up at them. His hair was spiky and blonde, and the grass around him rippled like he was emanating wind. 

“Ah, Son Gohan. So you did show up. I am afraid I have no time for you right now.”

“Who is Gohan?” Millie asked, looking up at Cell.

“Why, the very boy who left me in the state you found me in.” Cell explained, “Do not worry. He can’t do that to me again. Not any more.”

Gohan’s face hardened, and his fists clenched. He glared at Cell for a long time, his blue eyes then darting to Millie.

She glared back at him, leaning in closer to Cell. Gohan’s glare softened, and he took a step back, and finally spoke, “Don’t make trouble. You are not the only one who almost died.”

“Ah, I suppose that is true. That makes things interesting. I guess whoever trains the hardest will win the next round… Now then. Millie, stay here. I will get us a house.” He bent down and kissed her forehead, and he vanished before her eyes.

When she looked to where the boy had been he was gone as well. She decided to not think on what had just transpired, and how tense it had been, instead resting her hand on her stomach.

She wondered what color she would paint the baby’s room.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a commission I bought of Cell and Millie reading.  
> https://twitter.com/Squared2theRoot/status/1280307486826864640?s=20


End file.
